Miss Malden dresses in style.

I am not someone who personifies inanimate objects. I do not name my filofaxes. Not least because I probably couldn't remember the list. ( Which reminds me of one mother I represented when her eighth child was being taken into care. I checked the child's name with her as it seemed there was a typo in my case papers because the name of this child was the same as her first. But no. She said that she "Had just forgotten that she had already used that name.")

But, there is an exception to every rule and I noticed that my newly acquired Crimson Malden was definately a Miss Malden and had to be set up accordingly. From the outside she is Miss Malden in the way that barristers are always called Miss by their clerks. She is neat and discrete and professional.

But, inside she is a Miss as in Driving Miss Daisy. She is vintage. Not vintage as in what used to be second hand. Vintage as in having old style grace and elegance. She is a lady still living in an antebellum manision in the Carolinas and wearing gloves to lunch. Don't ask me why. She just is. She belongs to an age gone by. And so, on the inside I dressed her accordingly with trimmed down postcards from www.zazzle.com glued o grey card.

I chose this domestic one because we often holiday in Bath.

 

Despite being a little less staid this one had to go in because my great friend lives near San Fran and even Miss Malden lets her hair down a little when with her girlfriends. Mint Julep anyone?

This next one makes me laugh because Blackpool these days is the last place a glamourous lady like this would go.

 

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